Skip to main content

The Golconda

beyond the fort’s wall . . .
rice harvesters' songs
of long ago   / angelee


coughing bouts punctuate
the watchman's stroll   / paresh


as the rain falls
the cobra’s coils tighten
around her eggs   / raamesh


flocks of sparrows
fly over a swamp   / sathi


ripe fruit falling
into the lake
break the summer moon   / shabbir


passing clouds
usher in the malhar   / surya


sitar notes
caress his beloved’s
flowing tresses   / gautam


the door shuts quickly
behind the smiling couple   / seshu


I sense
a shade of emerald
in a bush by the stream   / neelam


butterflies
in a burst of colours   / cheryl


over a meadow
birds in flight
split the sky   / surya


the orchid leans
into the new year   / kala


An autumn junicho composed on 20th of October, 2013 at The Golconda Stones Haiku Meet.

The participants were:

Angelee Deodhar, Chandigarh – vs 1
Paresh Tiwari , Hyderabad – vs 2
Raamesh Gowri Raghavan, Mumbai – vs 3
Amarjit Sathi Tiwana, Chandigarh – vs 4
Shabbir Sheikh, Patur, Maharashtra – vs 5
G. S. P. Rao, Hyderabad – vs 6 & 11
Gautam Nadkarni, Mumbai – vs 7
Seshu Chamarty, Hyderabad – vs 8
Neelam Dadhwal, Chandigarh – vs 9
Cheryl Rao, Hyderabad – vs 10
Kala Ramesh [Sabaki] Pune – vs 12

(Published in A Hundred Gourds)
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

CST Station at 7:45 PM on Sunday 21 December, 2008

winter clouds this silent scream in my eyes The loo stinks, the tap runs and can't be closed. The risk of dying of a urinary tract infection or asphyxiation is still the same. The sole policeman visible, young and unarmed, is ostensibly guarding the ladies' first class. The rather bright lights are a change though, but they seem to make the place seem a wee bit less crowded. Seem. There are people sitting on the platform, waiting for their trains. Many in their Sunday best. Popcorn-sellers, peanut-sellers, kulfi-sellers are trying to get me to shed some money towards them, even as I wait for the samosa-seller. yellow leaves the old woman sweeps up yesterday It's getting on eight (time for the Titwala Fast to leave), and last-minute boarders are jumping in. The popcorn-seller is taking his last chances before he moves to the 8:13 Khopoli Slow. I don't know how many of the guys around me are pass-holders or even bothered to buy tickets. I do know the police didn...
Post a Comment
Read more

Haiku translated into... Sanskrit

 Four sets of Haiku translated into Sanskrit (not perfect!): https://cafehaiku.wordpress.com/2021/05/14/abhyagata-palika/ https://cafehaiku.wordpress.com/2021/05/16/hasteh-chayayam-in-the-elephants-shadow/ https://cafehaiku.wordpress.com/2021/05/18/vasanta-gandham-spring-fragrance/ https://cafehaiku.wordpress.com/2021/05/20/garjana-dhwani-the-thunder/
Post a Comment
Read more

Haiku for International Haiku Day

 highlighting the gulmohar’s redness koel calls pooja flowers the rain gods claim them for their own non-violence… our Ganesha makes do with fallen flowers flower shop — I just stand by to watch the bees last gong – the bare maidan bursts a-flower (Published in Cafe Haiku on 17/04/2023)
Post a Comment
Read more